Protecting One's Own
by innerdialogue
Summary: When Rachel hurts Mike beyond repair, Harvey steps in to protect his own.
1. Chapter 1

It was not the first time Mike has shown up on Harvey's doorstep. It had happened once or twice throughout Mike's tenure at Pearson Specter, but certainly had become rarer the better Mike learned to stand on his own two feet. The first time it happened, when Mike had been just over the far side of tipsy, Harvey had made it very clear that it was never to happen again, and Mike had learned his lesson. Mike's subsequent appearances have all been preceded by a phone call or a verbal invitation and Mike has never stayed longer that required to pick up or drop off whichever file they were working on.

It surprised Harvey, then, when he found Mike on the other side of his door on a rare Sunday night in June when there are no open cases that require their attention. He should have been out with the other associates or at home with his girlfriend, the paralegal, but he was there, leaning against the corridor wall.

"Hey," Mike said, pushing off the wall. "Look, I know it's late, but you think we can talk?"

Harvey wanted to tell him that it could wait until they were at the office tomorrow, that Harvey had planned for himself a rare early night in, but the nervous shake of Mike's hand as he wiped his forehead told him otherwise. Stepping back, he opened the door wide enough to let Mike past.

Closing the door behind him, Harvey followed Mike back into the apartment. The record player played softly in the corner, and the remains of Harvey's supper sat on the coffee table. Mike saw it and turned back to Harvey.

"Shit, I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

"It's just dinner," Harvey replied. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"You got beer?"

Harvey padded toward the kitchen to retrieve two bottles from the fridge. He returned to find Mike staring out at the lights of New York at dusk, its lights like stars fallen to Earth. The view had largely been what attracted Harvey to this particular apartment. He handed a bottle to Mike and popped the top off of his own.

"It gets me every time," Mike said. His rolled the bottle between his hands. "The way everything looks up here. And I though the office had a nice view."

"Being the best closer in the city has its perks," Harvey replied.

"Damn straight."

They lapsed into the sort of silence that spoke of things brewing beneath the surface, things that needed to be said or something would explode. Harvey waited patiently; Mike was never one for lulls in the conversation. Sometimes he talked just for the hell of it. It wasn't because he just liked the sound of his voice—that was more Harvey's area—but that he simply didn't feel comfortable with silences. If they were in the office, Harvey would have shoved a case file into his arms just to get him out of his office.

"I almost got high tonight," Mike said finally, turning away from the window.

"Mike."

"Don't worry, I didn't do it," Mike replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small baggy. "I even got the good stuff, too. Coffee Cart Guy and everything."

He tossed the bag to Harvey, and Harvey snatched it out of the air. He would flush it down the toilet after Mike left.

"Why'd you even buy it?" he asked. "Is this about your grandmother again?"

Mike shook his head. "No, not Grammy. I'm okay with that. Mostly."

"Then what?" Mike had been in a good place lately. He bounced back quickly after their quick hiatus from each other at work. His career was moving forward, he had Rachel. He was getting his shit together.

"Rachel's pregnant."

Well, maybe not completely together.

A small part of Harvey was angry. Angry that someone as smart as Mike—hell, as smart as Rachel—would find themselves in that position. With as many types of contraceptives as were available, there was really no excuse for something like this. Especially for two young professionals who were trying to build careers for themselves. A baby would just hold Mike back, keep him from becoming the lawyer that he and Harvey had been fighting for all this time. Hell, it might make him quit all together. Pointing that out, however, would be a misstep and not at all what Mike was there for.

"I suppose congratulations are in order." The words were like gravel in Harvey's throat.

The corner of Mike's mouth turned up, but it wasn't a happy smile.

"They would be," he said roughly as if the words were caught in his throat, "if I were able to have kids."

"Shit."

Mike was sterile, and the sheer weight of such personal and intimate knowledge almost knocked the breath from Harvey. Mike would never have kids, none that shared his DNA at any rate, and Harvey could imagine the effect something like that would have on someone like Mike. An orphan in every sense of the word faced the reality that he would never have a blood relative again.

And the real tragedy of the situation, there was a baby. A baby that wasn't Mike's, and could never have been Mike's. Solid, tangible proof of an infidelity that couldn't be ignored, no matter how much Mike might want to.

"Mike." Harvey stepped forward, clutching Mike's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Mike sniffed, and the tears that had only threatened action now fell freely. "Me, too. I just thought- I mean…"

He swayed, and Harvey was forced to brace the younger man against himself to prevent them for falling. The unopened beer bottle fell to the floor, and Mike sobbed into his shoulder.

"How did it happen?" Harvey asked some time later. Mike had calmed down, and they were both sitting on the couch, each with a glass of something decidedly stronger than beer.

Mike shrugged as nonchalantly as one can when discussing their sterility. "Some dickhead from the DA's office. She met him on the Lenwood case."

Harvey winced. He'd assigned Rachel as the paralegal on that case. Her actions were no fault of his own, but he still felt a pang of guilt that he had created the opportunity. He still still had some pull in that office, despite Terrence Wolf's personal beef with Harvey. If anything, he could find out the bastard's name, and Donna would make sure that none of the administrative assistants touched a single piece of paper for him.

"I meant the 'no kids' thing," Harvey replied carefully, pulling himself back to the conversation. "But it's good to know we both have enemies in the DA's office now."

Mike chuckled and gulped down the amber liquid in his glass. He grimaced-no matter how hard Harvey tried, the kid had absolutely no taste-and set the glass down on the coffee table.

"Blunt testicular trauma." Mike shrugged nonchalantly as if losing the ability to father children was as humdrum as you could get. "A soccer incident in high school. Cleats were involved."

Harvey groaned. "Ouch."

"Yeah, it was pretty ugly," Mike agreed. "I was out of school for awhile, but hey, all that time reading? I actually got ahead."

"Small favors, I guess."

"I guess." Mike sighed heavily. "I'm over it, anyway. Or at least, I thought I was."

They fell into silence again. Harvey listened to the click of the hall clock, counting each beat as they sat together.

"I can't go home, Harvey," Mike said finally, looking up at him.

Harvey stood up and clapped his associate on the shoulder.

"If you thought the view here is good, you should see the one from my guest room."


	2. Chapter 2

_Mike still couldn't tie his own bowtie. He knew the steps, could recite them word for word from a video on Youtube he had watched close to a dozen times before now, but he couldn't make them translate into what his hands were doing._

_"How does this look?" he asked, pulling his hands away. His reflection's tie wasn't so much a tied bowtie but a ball of wadded silk loosely wrapped around itself._

_"You'd think you could remember how to do this," Harvey said. He turned Mike by the shoulder to face him, untangling Mike's attempt at a bow. Straightening the material around Mike's neck, he smoothly and swiftly finessed the silk into a picture-perfect bow. "You seem to remember everything else."_

_"It's not the same thing," Mike replied, turning to judge the tie for himself. Like everything else Harvey did, it was perfect. "How many times do I have to say that?"_

_"I don't know, how many times have you said it?"_

_"Fifty three." Mike reached up to pull gently at the bow, but Harvey slapped his hands away._

_"You screw that up, kid, and I won't fix it."_

_Even with the amazing way his brain was able to absorb and process knowledge, Mike still struggled to wrap his head around the idea that Harvey was standing with him that day at his best man. If someone had told him back when they first started working together that not only would Mike ask him but that Harvey would accept, Mike would have laughed them straight out of the office. And yet, in the few short years that they had known and worked with each other, the relationship between Mike and Harvey had evolved into an entirely new creature._

_No longer was Mike afraid that Harvey would leave him out to dry. It had taken quite awhile to repair the damage that resulted from Mike's perceived betrayal of Harvey, but eventually they had reached a place where they both knew the other would do anything and everything to protect the other._

_For Mike, that meant being completely and totally honest with Harvey. He had since learned that secrets kept from Harvey tended to_

_"Yeah, yeah," Mike laughed. He turned away from the mirror and spread his arms open. "So, what do you think?"_

_Harvey studied him with the same critical eye he gave anything Mike wore when he first started working as his associate. Unlike the first tux Mike had worn for a work function, this one fit him to a tee. It wasn't off the rack for one thing; Harvey had poked and prodded until Mike agreed to have one tailored made, and while Mike had only just recently begun to spend real money for his suits, he agreed that his own wedding was reason enough to splurge on a tuxedo. Mike had even consented to wear a vest._

_"Not half bad," Harvey said. He reached out and needlessly smoothed down Mike's lapel. "If we can just burn all of your old suits maybe you'll finally start to look like a real lawyer."_

_"Hey, my suits have come a long way since we met. I've even donated those suits I stole from Trevor to charity."_

_Harvey rolled his eyes. "You know, I thought we passed a homeless man wearing one of your suits just the other day."_

_"If this law thing doesn't work out, you should consider comedy," Mike replied. He checked his reflection once more in the mirror. "Okay, I think I'm ready."_

_Harvey stepped up behind him, placing a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Are you ready for this?"_

_Mike was ready. There wasn't much in his life that he had been ready for-his parents' death, being expelled, and then his grandmother's death-but marrying Rachel was something that he felt completely prepared for. Ever since his first day at the firm, when Rachel had given him the office tour, Mike had felt that they had been heading toward this. Everything they had been through was in preparation for this day and all the days that followed afterward._

_"Yeah, I think I am."_

_There was a knock at the door. Mike called for them to come in, and Donna appeared. She looked even more like a knockout in her emerald bridesmaid's dress._

_"Hey, Donna," Mike said. "Beautiful as always."_

_"Mike."_

_"Did Rachel send you to get us?" Mike smiled. He walked over to Donna, buttoning his jacket as he moved. "We're a little behind schedule, I know. Harvey probably took longer to do his hair this morning than you did."_

_"Mike," Donna said again, and this time he caught something in the tone of her voice. It was the tone of voice that people used when they were preparing themselves to deliver bad news. He had heard it from the police officers who showed up at his grandmother's door, and he had heard it from Rachel again when his Grammy died. "Mike, there's something you should know."_

_"Donna, what is it? You're making me nervous."_

_"Mike, I'm so sorry," she said. She reached out, taking his hand and squeezing. And it was that more than anything that shook Harvey. As verbally affectionate as Donna could be, she rarely touched anyone but Harvey._

_"Donna?"_

_"Rachel isn't in her dressing room. I don't think she's coming, sweetie."_

**HSMR**

When Mike woke up the next morning it took him several minutes to remember that he wasn't in his own bed The sheets wrapped around him were nicer than any sheets he had slept on before, even nicer than those Rachel had insisted they buy when they moved in together. He took a moment and ran his hand over the material, reveling in the way they felt like water against his skin. Leave it to Harvey to spend money on sheets he wouldn't even be using himself.

Like the rest of Harvey's condo, the guest room was sleek and modern with long, straight lines and monochromatic colors, and even though it was merely to house visitors, the windows were wide enough to provide him with a brilliant view of the late-morning city.

While he should have been getting up, getting dressed, and going into the office, Mike took a selfish minute to stay in bed, trying to orient both his thoughts and his feelings.

Rachel had cheated. Rachel was pregnant. Mike was once again alone.

Not completely alone, he thought to himself as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had people in his corner, people would were there for him when he needed him. The very fact that he was waking up in Harvey's apartment proved that he would be taken care of when he needed it most. The Harvey he had met several years ago would never had even let him cross the threshold over something like this, and now Mike was sleeping on his thousand dollar bedsheets.

No matter how much he might have wanted to, Mike knew he couldn't lie around forever. There were things he needed to do, people he needed to talk to, and he couldn't do that from bed. He stood, stretching, and picked up his phone from where he had dropped it onto the nightstand. The only thing in his inbox was a text from Harvey.

**From Harvey, 7:47 AM:**

_Take the morning._

_Collect yourself and_

_then come into the office._

_The law waits for no man,_

_Rookie._

Others might find Harvey expecting him to show up at all after the night Mike had to be insensitive, but for Mike, it was the perfect response. Harvey had acknowledged that Mike needed time to process, but he also knew that the best way for Mike to do that would be for him to throw himself into a case or two. It was something they had both learned in the aftermath of Grammy's death, and Mike appreciated the fact that Harvey was making an effort.

If it were anyone else's apartment, Mike might have poked around a little while he had the opportunity; he would love to snoop through Harvey's medicine cabinet or in his underwear drawer. However, considering how stingy Harvey was with giving an inch, Mike knew better than to take the mile, so he restricted himself to the guest bed and bath.

He showered, and after putting on his spare suit that had somehow made it from his cubicle to Harvey's front hall, he locked the door and left.

**HSMR**

The fact that Donna was already waiting for Harvey in the elevator bay should have given him a moment's pause. It was earlier than she had ever arrived to his knowledge, certainly since he was named managing partner, but then again Donna always prided herself on her ability to anticipate his actions.

"Good morning, Donna," he greeted. He turned from the elevators and started toward his office.

"Harvey, what's going on? You never come in this early. Did you even go running this morning?"

"I have business to take care of," he said.

"You have nothing on your schedule this morning," Donna countered. "Your meeting with Verner isn't until one, and it's nothing you haven't told him before."

"I'm sorry, when I said business I meant to say my business," Harvey replied. He

unlocked his office and strode inside. "As in, none of yours."

Unfazed, Donna followed him in, and perched on the corner of his desk. "Someone's touchy this morning. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"Donna, leave it." Harvey set his briefcase on the couch and began flicking through his records.

"Is this about Rachel and Mike?"

Harvey stopped short. "What do you know?"

Donna raised an eyebrow "What do you mean, what do I know? I'm Donna."

"Have you talked to Rachel?" Harvey asked. He plucked one of his father's records from the shelf and slipped the vinyl from its sleeve. "Has she told you anything about the reason she left?"

"No, I haven't spoken to her since before the wedding," Donna replied. "Have you? Has Mike? Harvey, what's going on?"  
Dropping the needle onto the record, Harvey took a moment as the sounds of his father's saxophone filtered through his office.

"I'll explain everything later, Donna," he replied, moving to sit behind his desk. "Now, get me the number for the nearest florist."

**HSMR**

It was barely an hour before Harvey needed to leave to meet a client for lunch when Rachel came storming into his office. No other paralegal would have the balls to storm into the managing partner's office and he had been expecting even if Donna hadn't, so he merely focused on his computer.

Seven new emails from three different clients including Charles Verner, an old poker buddy who was bound and determined to refuse Harvey's insistence that he and his fiance twenty years his junior sign a prenup to save him the grief when the whole things tanks. Their lunch meeting later that day would be interesting.

"You condescending bastard. What they hell is this supposed to be?"

Harvey barely even looked at the envelope in her hand. He did, however, open up a tab to skim through the New York Time's sports section. Rodriguez was refusing to back down from his suits against the NLB despite League's dubiously tenacious pursuit for the Yankee's third baseman. A challenge, one that Harvey wishes he could take a crack at. "It's a going-away present. Did the flowers not get that across?"

"Where am I going?"

"Like I said," Harvey said. "Away. Go to law school in California, travel around Europe. I don't give a damn where you go, just go."

"Is this a threat?" Rachel asked, crossing her arms.

So this was going to be an actual conversation. Clicking back to his desktop, Harvey leaned back in his chair and looked the paralegal in the eye.

"It's a promise," Harvey replied. "Your future at this firm is over. I don't care if you come back here after sitting on the goddamned Supreme Court, you will never work for Pearson Specter."

"I don't think that's your call. I have a deal with Jessica."

Invoking the previous Managing Partner's name. An end-run. Harvey stood and walking around his desk to stand in front of Rachel. It wasn't that he needed the height advantage, but he wanted to make sure there were no misunderstandings.

"Jessica isn't here. I'm in charge, and I am telling you need to walk away."

"Why should I walk away from everything I've built here?"

"You go to Stanford, and you'll be able to walk into any law firm in the country and be hired on the spot. I'll write the goddamned recommendation myself. You can be a lawyer anywhere, Rachel, but Mike can't be one anywhere but here. You force him out, you make him leave the only good thing he has in his life, there's no telling what may happen to him."

"You're unbelievable," Rachel hissed. "Mike has always insisted that you were a good person, but this? This is insulting."

"I hardly think we need to discuss what constitutes a good person, do we?"

He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in his chair.

"It was a pleasure to work with you, Ms. Zane. I wish you luck in all of your future endeavors."

Rachel looked at him, tears brimming. She inhaled and turned to the door.

"Rachel."

She stopped , hand clenched around the doorknob.

"Five years," Harvey said. "An old Harvard buddy has a firm in L.A. Give him five years of your time, show him what you can do, and then we will see what Pearson Specter has to offer."


End file.
